


Greyhound

by Aurora_Nerin



Series: Modern AU Thorki one-shots. Based on (partly) true stories [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chubby Thor, Gen, It's not specified but that's how I imagine him, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, Mental Health Awareness, Mental Health Issues, Teen Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Nerin/pseuds/Aurora_Nerin
Summary: When Thor, a bus driver in his late thirties ends up stuck with a lost teenager, Loki, he thinks Loki's another rebellious runaway. He has no idea how dark Loki's story truly is...Not slash. Could be pre-slash if you squint. Up to you.





	Greyhound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hjbender](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjbender/gifts).



> Imagine Chubby Endgame Thor in this one: fluffy belly, bushy beard, a bit on ''don't care how i look'' side. Or don't. I'm not forcing you. Just that's my headcanon. 
> 
> Thanks to Hal Bender for motivating me to write something again. Even if this came straight outta nowhere.  
> Thanks to SatansSyn for being my beta reader and putting up with my shit :3

''The end of the line, kid.'' 

 

The black-haired scrawny teenager tosses one glance Thor's way and looks back down. 

 

He doesn't seem to have any intention to move.

 

Thor climbs back into the bus, leaning into the chair to take a good look at the boy. He's only got a tiny backpack. Doesn't seem like a tourist. Or a hiker. 

 

''Hey,'' He tries again. God damn it, they left Salt Lake City at 5 AM and its half past three; he's been driving for twenty-something hours and would love to get some sleep. ''This is the last stop. You can't stay here, sorry.''

 

The kid looks up at him; his eyes are huge and so green and unfocused, as if he's not understanding. Damn, is he high or something, thinks Thor, but bites the sarcastic comment back, just politely pointing at the door again.

 

The kid stands up and staggers away, looking lost and miserable. Thor almost feels bad for him. 

 

He sighs and pulls up to the bus park, parking the vehicle and killing the engine.

 

''Hey, Tom!'' He greets the old guard. 

 

''Thor,'' acknowledges the old man, passing him the paper to stick to the bass windshield. ''Last one in, as always.''

 

''Roads are horrible at this time.'' Thor says.

 

''I bet.'' The old man says back. 

 

The kid's still there when Thor goes back for his backpack and jacket: huddled on the bench, dozing off. The blonde sighs heavily: he's in shit, isn't he? He rubs his forehead trying to remember when the kid got on: was he alone or was anyone seeing him off? He clearly remembers all of the five passengers that rode with him all the way from S.L.C.: a tourist couple, with hiking equipment big enough to give him trouble, and old lady with her spaniel that was, surprisingly, not noisy. Two college girls that got off on Vegas Transit Bus Station, just outside the city. But for the life of him, he can't remember this kid.

 

He sits down next to him, even though all his instincts are telling him not to. He can't just mind his own business, can he?

 

''Isn't someone picking you up?'' He asks. 

 

The boy just stares back mutely. He shakes his head, no, after Thor repeats the question.

 

''Do you have anywhere to stay?'' 

 

The boy seems to give that a little thought.

 

''Where... Where am I?'' He asks after a while.

 

Whoa. Whatever answer Thor expected, it sure as hell wasn't this.

 

''Sun Valley, Nevada, north of Reno.'' He says. ''You miss your stop or something?''

 

''No.'' 

 

''Well, there are no more buses today. The first one leaves at seven.''

 

He's met with the unnerving silence again. Thor shakes his head and is about to turn his back and leave when he hears sniffing and then:

 

''I can't go back.''

 

Well, shit. Not my problem, not my problem.. Thor says the words as a mantra, but he's not even fooling himself. He wraps his jacket tight around himself: it's fuckin cold. A single snowflake falls on the boy's jet-black hair. Thor considers his options carefully: There's a shitty motel couple hundred feet away; the one where drivers usually bunk down for the night and, as much as he's sure they will take the boy in and ask no questions, that can't be safe. 

 

''Come on then,'' He says, holding out his hand. 

 

The boy just looks like the gesture is completely lost on him.

 

''You got somewhere to stay?'' Thor asks, hoping against hope.

 

''No.'' 

 

''Well, you can't really sleep out here. It's freezing and there's a snowstorm on the way. You can crash at mine for tonight.''

 

The boy looks at him in distrust ( Not that Thor can blame him) but takes the offered hand and follows him.

 

''It's just ten minutes walk.'' The blonde says, apologetic, when he realizes how the boy struggles to keep up. He makes an offer to carry his backpack, but the teen refuses to let it go, clutching it to his chest like it holds all of the treasures of the universe and Thor lets it go.

 

They walk down the main street, then turn left, then left again.

 

''Here we are,'' The blonde says, pointing to the small two story house, unlocking the door on the right and leading the boy up the stairs to the attic. ''Sorry it's not much,'' he says, not sure why he's apologizing at all: however shitty his housing conditions may be, at least he got the heating and the bathroom with shower that doesn't stink of shit, which already tops spending night at the frozen bench in front of the bus station. 

 

The boy doesn't seem to mind the chaotic state of Thor's studio though: if anything, he's looking a little starstruck. 

 

''There's so much... color...'' He whispers, in awe.

 

Thor chuckles, Yeah, the owners of the house are the hippie couple and they have decorated everything in outrageous flowery patterns and trippy tapestries. Thor wasn't too fond of them, but they were better than the bare walls and made the place easier to warm up, so that was a huge plus.

 

''Not to my tastes,'' He replies, hanging up his coat; the flat is already blissfully warm: Thor has developed a habit of calling his landlady and asking her to turn the heating on when he crosses the state border. It has paid off. ''You hungry?'

 

The boy stiffens at the mention of food and starts shaking his head furiously. 

 

Thor narrows his eyes at him.

 

''You ok there pal?'' He asks, as softly as he can. 

 

''I don't want them...'' The boy mutters, backing up, clearly looking for an escape, although Thor can't comprehend what in the ever loving fuck he might've done to trigger such a response. ''Please, Sir.''

 

Sir?

 

''Hey, it's ok. If you're not hungry you're not  hungry. A hot cup of tea might do you good though, you seemed a little pale.'' Says Thor, in what he hopes is a reassuring tone. ''And you can call me by my name. It's Thor. What's yours?''

 

The boy sighs in relief and sags down on the carpet. Thor decides to treat the situation as normally as he can and call the social services first thing tomorrow morning.

 

He's already putting on the kettle when he hears a whisper.

 

''My name is Loki.''

 

\---

 

They drink their tea in silence, Thor wolfing down a 99 c can of Mac N Cheese. If he catches Loki stealing a cookie or two, he doesn't mention it. 

 

''How old are you?'' Asks Thor, when they're done. He's doing the dishes and Loki's sitting on a bar stool, staring vacantly into space.

 

''Eighteen.'' The boy says.

 

''Where are you from?'' 

 

''Nowhere.'' Loki cuts, cold.

 

''Did you finish school?''

 

''I didn't go.''

 

Thor chuckles, pulling out the towel to dry the cups.

 

''Is anyone gonna be looking for you?''

 

There's a tense silence. Thor steals a glance at the boy, who looks like he's about to cry.

 

''No.''

 

''No family?'' Thor pushes. There's no way a kid could just take off like that. Someone had to notice, right?

 

''If they wanted me...'' He says at last, voice a bit choked. ''They'd let me stay home.''

 

So there is home, out there somewhere. Thor makes a mental note of that.

 

''What were you even thinking, coming to Nevada in the middle of January? It's freezing. If I'd run away from home, I'd at least head down south.'' Thor tries to lighten the mood by joking. ''Less chance to freeze one's balls off.''

 

Loki stares at him like he's stupid.

 

''I didn't have much choice. They bought the ticket for me.''

 

''They?''

 

Loki stays silent for a long time.

 

''The hospital staff. I was eighteen. They didn't have to keep me there. My family didn't want me. So here I am.'' He says all in one breath, as if that will make it okay.  ''Wherever the here is.''

 

Thor grows cold all over. He... He can't believe this. 

 

''You're joking...'' He says, throat closed up like he's just swallowed a sheet of sandpaper.  ''Tell me you're joking, Loki.''

 

The boy shakes his head. 

 

''So they... What, just bought you one way ticket to nowhere and told you to hit the road?'' The blonde hisses, barely holding back his fury.

 

Loki shrieks from him. Well, maybe he's not doing as well with hiding his anger as he thinks. 

 

''That's...'' Thor has no words for this. This can't be happening to kids, It can't. He thought the so called greyhound therapy shit with mentally ill was over with the Nixon days. He takes another good luck at Loki and it all starts to make sense: The absence of a phone or headphones, the unusual silence and weird phased out look in the kid's eyes, the grey sweatpants and sweatshirt that don't look like any brand and remind him of something prisoners would wear in one of those shitty Hollywood movies...

 

\---

 

Later that night, he lays in his bed, awake, staring at the ceiling, the wheels in his head turning at the speed of light. What is he supposed to do? Call the police? The child services? Technically, Loki's not a kid anymore. Who knows what kind of shit will happen to him if he takes him back to wherever he came from. Chances are, he doesn't even remember where that is, or won't tell. Either way, being mentally unstable, no one will believe Loki. They'll think he escaped and they hospital will make a show of taking him back, probably, to just pull the same trick again. 

 

What if the kid's not so lucky this time? What if he ends up somewhere in the ditch? Or with some pedophile? Or freezes outside? Or end up as a rent boy for some sick fuck?

 

What am I going to do, thinks Thor. What.

 

The door cracks open just a tiny bit and the bush of black curls peaks in.

 

''Thor?'' Whispers Loki.

 

''I'm awake.'' Says Thor. ''What is it?''

 

''I'm scared.'' The boy says so pitifully, that it makes Thor's heart constrict painfully. 

 

''Hey, what's wrong?'' Say the blonde, sitting up in his bed and beckoning Loki closer, who approaches him somewhat doubtfully. Thor thanks the heavens that it's winter and he's wearing warm sweatpants and a shirt and is not naked. 

 

Loki slides under the blanket and sighs contently. 

 

Thor lays back down, wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders.

 

''What are you going to do?'' Asks Loki after a long while. So long, in fact, that Thor would assume him to be asleep already.

 

''What do you mean?''

 

''About me.'' Says Loki softly. 

 

I'd be damned to all hells if I know, thinks Thor.

 

''Go to sleep, Loki,'' He says.

 

''It's okay. If you don't want me, I mean.'' Loki whispers. ''No one ever did. I'm used to it. I know what I am. I'm fucked up in the head. Dangerous. A monster. That's what I deserve, isn't it?''

 

Well, Thor couldn't possibly leave that without an answer, now, could he?

 

''You're not a monster, sweetheart,'' He says, sliding his fingers through the black locks. ''You're just different.''

 

Loki shakes his head.

 

''You don't know that. You don't know what I did.''

 

That gives Thor a pause.

 

''Did you kill someone?'' He asks, carefully.

 

''I don't know.''

 

''Hurt someone?''

 

''I don't... Will you send me back if I did?'' 

 

The terrified voice sends chills down Thor's spine.

 

Thor closes his eyes, willing his brain to shut down. To get away from this unexpected problem that someone ended up being his.

 

''Go to sleep, Loki,'' He says again. ''We'll talk in the morning.''

 

\----

He dreams of Loki, but all grown up, chasing him down the street, in weird green on gold on black leather armor and horned helmet. 

 

\----

 

The alarm clock wakes him up at ten. He opens his eyes slowly, feeling sleep deprived and disoriented. No work today, but load of errands to run, groceries to buy. He'll probably need to go downtown and pick up his old truck from Volstagg's place. Then he has to take Loki...

 

Oh, wait.. Thor's brain comes to a screeching half at that moment. 

 

Where is Loki?

 

He shots out of bed, looking around desperately, but the kid's nowhere to be found: the bedroom, the bathroom and the kitchen are all empty and devoid of life. 

 

Thor throws on a jacket in haste and runs down the stairs and out in the street. The kid's bloody nowhere. How could he get out so early? He looks and looks but the ground is covered in fresh snow and there aren't any footprints to be seen.

 

''Damn it, God fuckin damn it!'' Thor mutters under his breath, running back up and knocking on his landlady's door to ask if she's seen something.

 

The woman greets him with a warm smile, friendly as ever.

 

''Hello, Thor! How have you been?''

 

''Pam!'' Thor says back hastily. ''Have  you seen a young boy around here? Thin, black hair, green eyes. He was staying over and I fear he might've...''

 

''Him?'' Pam says pointing behind his back and opening the door wide.

 

Thor steps in and stares. He can't not stare: Loki's here alright, sitting cross legged on Pam's carpet, holding a stack of playing cards, Pam's cat, Hermes, purring in his lap.

 

Thor looks back at Pam in utter astonishment, begging for some kind of explanation.

 

''Hermes run away again.'' She explains. ''I couldn't chase her, my hip... The nerve is on fire again. Then I saw this young lad running down the stairs and asked if he could bring him back, promising him a slice of apple pie if he did.''

 

Loki looks up and smirks at Thor, with knowing eyes.

 

Damn it, thinks Thor. 

 

But did he get played.

 

\--

 

Later, stacked with groceries and in Thor's old truck, they're driving back home through the snowy streets. Loki is no longer in those pitiful grey clothes; Pal was nice enough to give some hand-me-downs from his son (who's off to collage). The green cardigan and black jeans look good on him, Thor thinks.

 

Then he remembers the weird helmet from his dream and chuckles.

 

Loki tears his eyes away from the street and looks at him.

 

''What is it?'' He asks.

 

Thor sighs.

 

''Alright you won,'' He says. ''You can stay.''

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The so called ''greyhound therapy'' is real shit that's going on in the USA. Seriously, look it up, that shit is FUCKED.


End file.
